Prey
by The Sith Virtuoso
Summary: A high stakes reconnaissance mission turns into a a desperate fight for survival in the shadow of Raxus Prime. Set during the Clone Wars before the Battle of Hypori with the General Grievous we witnessed in the 2003 2D series. Reviews are very much appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **Firstly, it's been good to write again after so long.**

 **Now, some of the older fans here may remember that moment in 2003, episode 20 of "Star Wars: Clone Wars" when a whole new villain was introduced to the Star Wars universe in a fashion unrivaled by any ever since.**

 **That to me, (and the one in this story) is the TRUE General Grievous-mesmerizing, spectacular and utterly _frightening_ unlike the sorry, unforgivable excuse of a Saturday morning cartoon villain they had condemned him to be...**

 **Reviews are much appreciated, and I hope you enjoy - DG**

**shoutout to SupernalGodzilla for calling my attention to a small but vital detail.

* * *

 **PREY**

 _A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..._

* * *

 **I**

Master Vaun Ardann had gone to many worlds during his time as Jedi.

A consummate adventurer at heart—his being a Zeltron notwithstanding—he would often volunteer for frontier or dangerous expeditionary missions when most others frequently had second thoughts.

 _Such is the path the Force has laid for me_.

For him, his study of the Force was one learned through experience.

Or as he would say to the disagreement of more orthodox Jedi—through _living_.

Though he had his detractors, for him, the will of the Force spoke clearer to him through his mingling with the countless denizens and worlds of the galaxy.

It was something he never truly experienced back in the Jedi Temple Coruscant, certainly not when he had been a learner and even less so during his subsequent promotions to Knight and eventual Mastery.

While he made it a point to truly learn from his experiences in the worlds he had visited, he was still guilty to a certain partiality—there were simply some worlds he loved more than he did others.

The one which he was currently en route to was definitely not on the list of worlds he would have liked to come back to again.

A beeping from the intercom signalled that their transport had entered realspace, and out of a viewport, Ardann beheld the grim visage of Raxus Prime.

Deep within the heart of territory controlled by the Confederacy of Independent Systems, Raxus Prime was a rust-colored corpse of a planet covered in mountains of scrap, oceans of sludge, and an atmosphere so caustic that it presented a health hazard to any who dared breathe it.

Ardann knew though that was more to it than meets the eye.

He had been to the so-called "Graveyard of Machines"—a moniker the planet had attained over the centuries—twice for reconnaissance in the years prior the Separatist Crisis and he had found both visits exquisitely unpleasant.

But those same experiences had made him indispensable for the success of the mission at hand.

Covert and dangerous, he could not afford such a large crew lest they risk detection.

So with Master Ardann came just a single battalion of clones, 20 strong, led by a former clone engineer who answered to the sobriquet Wrench.

Had it been up to Ardann, the clones would have been enough—he had already fought alongside Commander Wrench on the frontline on three occasions before and both men had earned the others' trust and respect.

But the Council insisted – _more like_ commanded, he thought irritably—that due to the gravity of the mission, he _must_ be accompanied by fellow Jedi.

So when his objections for their safety—and truly he was concerned for that—were set aside, the Council had asked for four volunteers to accompany him.

The towering Wookiee knight Warrgo, famed for his martial skills and his distinguished actions as a Padawan during the Battle of Geonosis, was conversing with a clone trooper at the aft side of the holding chamber.

Rodian Jedi Master Orvid and his Padawan, a female Mirialan named Shasta Orsin, were looking out of viewports opposite him in silence.

"Master Ardann? Are you well?" the voice of his last Jedi companion broke him out of his contemplation.

He turned and beheld the tall and slender form of the recently knighted human Azaleé Myrra.

Ardann forced a smile, "Yes, I'm quite alright, Myrra."

"It's just not like you to be so...silent," the dark haired female human replied.

The Zeltron sighed, "I would not have asked for any of you to come here, Myrra. No, don't take it as offense please...I _value_ the company of my fellow Jedi. Truly I do. It's just that something about this mission makes me uneasy. I can't put my finger on exactly why."

" _The_ Vaun Ardann, uneasy?" Myrra smirked, "that's sure to be a hot topic in the Temple once we get back."

 _She has nerve_ , _that's good_ , Ardann thought with a sad smile, _but will that be enough to get her—us—all back in one piece?_

There was a silence, and Myrra began to think that she had inadvertently insulted the famously boisterous Jedi Master and so she piped up honestly and somewhat apologetically.

"If I may, Master Ardann, we volunteered because we want to help. We knew what we were getting into, and by the Force, we believe in _you_. I apologize if my words had struck a nerve."

Ardann knew that none of his companions had ever gone down onto the wasteland of rust and smog that they were fast approaching. They still went anyway.

That knowledge was a needed touch to his heart.

 _May with the Force be with us all, then_ , he thought, laying a reassuring hand on the younger human's shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Raxus Prime's eponymous sun was already setting when they had entered the smog choked atmosphere.

They had waited with bated breath on whether or not their gunship's hastily outfitted stealth & jamming systems would hold against Raxus Prime's orbital defences and when the turbolaser equipped droid satellites didn't even stop to examine the craft, those aboard breathed a collective sigh of relief.

 _And now it really begins_ , Ardann mused.

Three standard days before, agents from Republic Intelligence had managed to partially decrypt a transmission from Count Dooku's stronghold on Serenno. Though the decrypted portion of the transmission lasted only a few minutes, it was enough excuse for them to report directly to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine who immediately apprised the Jedi Council.

Apparently, the encryption codes of the Hyper Communications Cartel—the CIS version of the Republic Holonet—were held within the Confederacy's main garrison on Raxus Prime.

It was a brilliant afterthought, Palpatine had said, that the CIS would have chosen such a bleak, uninviting and strategically worthless world to house their methods of secrecy.

Ardann knew that the Council members found such a circumstance strange, and he was in agreement with them in that regard.

But the Council knew better nowadays than to oppose the Chancellor outright.

In this case though, even _they_ could not deny what obtaining the codes would mean for the war, a war which had already brought untold death and destruction within two short years.

And so a plan was made in haste, and they had brought Ardann into the fold immediately due to his knowledge of Raxus Prime and his success in such covert missions.

As the gunship silently landed in a derelict and abandoned docking bay, the last red slivers of sunlight had sank beneath the hazy horizon.

Night, preternaturally dark in Raxus Prime's toxic, clouded atmosphere, had fallen.

The Zeltron Jedi mused darkly how fitting it was given how the war had been going.

 _The dying of the light indeed._

The clones and the Jedi silently departed the ship in pairs and quietly but quickly set up a perimeter around the ship.

Ardann was the last to leave, leaving only the two pilots within.

Beckoning his Jedi companions, they immediately walked toward Commander Wrench who was thoroughly examining a holographic layout of the garrison cobbled from various intelligence reports months before

"Let's hear it, Commander."

Wrench's held his chin in one hand as he spoke, "It's not a large facility, but the structure most complex; a labyrinth, for lack of better word...I also have bad news, Generals; the plans that Intelligence supplied us aren't complete as well."

Warrgo growled a query. _What do you mean incomplete?_

"Yes, General Warrgo," said Wrench as he set the holoprojector to show a gross plan of the facility and he gestured to a sizeable void in its center, "Unfortunately for us, Intelligence has only ever been able to penetrate that far into the complex."

The Wookiee Jedi grumbled darkly. Warrgo was not known for his patience among the Jedi.

The solemn Master Orvid gestured to Warrgo, "Patience, my friend. All things reveal themselves in due time."

Ardann quietly sighed in relief.

It was good to have someone with a level mind like Orvid. Though he was a Jedi Master himself, he had never quite gotten that level of serenity that a lot of others did.

Then again, he had only ascended to Mastery fairly recently, while Orvid was his senior by almost a decade.

The Rodian Jedi then turned, "Master Ardann; you are the commanding officer here, what do you believe should be our next course of action?"

Ardann took a closer look at the hologram and pointed to a node located west of their current position.

"That looks like a computer interface node here. From experience, Raxus Prime's facilities have a centralized network where every node is connected to just one motherboard and memory bank," he said to Wrench.

"Affirmative, General,"

He could feel the clone commander smiling from under his helmet.

"Can you get everything we need once we get there?"

The clone tilted his head with a chuckle and a salute, "Certainly sir, I'm an engineer after all..."

Even as he smiled back and motioned for Wrench to take the lead, Ardann could not help but feel uneasy as they entered the facility.

* * *

Like most Mirialans, Shasta Orsin was a natural empath.

Such an ability was magnified due to her strength in the Force.

It was an ability that she attempted to make the best use of, as Master Orvid had always told her.

Yet for her it was a double edged sword.

She could already feel a sense of unease the moment she had stepped foot onto Raxus Prime.

The dark side was powerful on that planet, having been a stronghold of the Sith in millennia long past.

That was common knowledge—a veritable school subject— to most Jedi and yet...she wondered darkly if the echoes from those bygone days were somehow subtly influencing what she and the rest of the team were feeling.

How different it was to learn something in the Temple from experiencing it first-hand!

It had been unnerving enough when they entered the garrison, only to find it seemingly abandoned—the facility was derelict yet active—but no droids nor organics were in sight.

A preliminary scan by Commander Wrench's engineering unit confirmed that there were none in their immediate vicinity.

They had thought that perhaps it was just circumstance—that perhaps as they penetrated deeper into the garrison, they would encounter trouble.

Shasta could tell that some of her companions were actually _hoping_ for such a thing.

They were fast approaching the computer node Commander Wrench had elaborated earlier, and still no enemies.

Yet for all that—or lack thereof—the unease she had felt had become _fear_.

 _Fear_ of the unknown.

The Mirialan Padawan could _feel_ the fear in the very air.

It wasn't much.

Yet.

But it was enough.

A simple pathogen that _could_ explode into a plague.

 _No. We are Jedi._ _Fear has no control over us_.

She would have wanted to say that, and she believed it with all her heart.

They had arrived in the derelict computer node, and most unsettlingly, the door to the node was unlocked.

It screamed of a trap, and yet she knew that Masters Ardann and Orvid would have had already gone to the same conclusion before her.

The Rodian Jedi Master directed a group of clones to guard the perimeter with Myrra and Warrgo in tow while Master Ardann and Commander Wrench's unit of engineers did their work.

She felt weak for feeling afraid, worsened ten times further by the fear she felt in her companions.

 _The sooner they were gone from this place, the better,_ she thought, watching the Zeltron Jedi and the clone engineers slice into one of the computer panels.

* * *

"Almost there," remarked one of the clone engineers, "the Confederacy definitely takes encryption seriously."

Just as the decryption reached 100%, the computer node suddenly went completely dark, and the motley battalion immediately set into a defensive position, the Jedi igniting their lightsabers.

The Wookiee Jedi barked, _What's going on?_

"I don't understand—the entire facility's power has been cut," said another clone tech, as he looked into a holographic display of the electrical systems present within the garrison.

Just then, veritable legions of isolated pockets of electricity came into life in the hologram.

Their group was momentarily stunned—dozens, if not _hundreds_ of droids had just activated and were fast converging on their location.

 _It_ was _a trap!_ Ardann thought irately.

Losing no time, the Zeltron Jedi Master shouted for a retreat and the rest of the team were quick to comply.

It was something else to run through the corridors which only minutes before were lighted and climate-controlled.

They could _taste_ the metallic reek of Raxus Prime's atmosphere slowly polluting the area and the darkness that enveloped them seemed to be as thick as the smog that passed for the planet's atmosphere.

The fear they felt which only moments ago was a mere sliver was fast expanding.

What it was expanding into was something Ardann didn't even dare to think of.

 _There is no time for fear,_ he said to himself.

But at the back of his mind, he knew that saying those words and believing them were not as easy as he would have liked.


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

As they ran back, Azaleé Myrra was about to ask Commander Wrench to issue a rescue beacon to the waiting gunship only to find the clone commander way ahead of her, quickly issuing commands into his wrist link.

Her confidence grew somewhat knowing that she had at least a truly competent team about her.

Just then a blaster bolt sprang from the darkness and ripped the clone commando immediately beside her in two.

She ignited her lightsaber just in time to see Warrgo taking down the dwarf spider droid responsible for said feat.

Just then a veritable legion of destroyer droids appeared from the gloom and entered combat configuration.

Soon the dark hall in which they had entered was suddenly filled with the noise and glow of blaster bolts ripping through the air.

Myrra and the rest of her Jedi companions quickly took the frontline to defend the clones from the onslaught of blasters.

But only just.

The mechanized war machines were lethal, untiring and _inexorable_ –destroyer droids in that number were simply far too numerous to attack without jeopardizing all of their lives, lightsaber or no.

There was also the sound of countless metallic heels pounding their way.

Myrra cursed under her breath as she deflected plasma bolts with her luminescent blue blade.

More droids were coming.

As the Jedi, defended their group from the barrage of blaster bolts, they were constantly on the retreat, with the clones fast finding alternative routes and returning fire as well.

"Mayday! Numerous hostiles have engaged and on fast pursuit! Request immediate pickup!" barked Commander Wrench into his wrist link as their group ran for their lives, "retrieval on landing pad 13—I repeat, _retrieval on landing pad 13!"_

The only light in the dark halls were the storm of blaster bolts, the Jedi's lightsabers and the headlamps built-in the clone commandos helmets and the ineffectual auxiliary lights found on the floor and some wall panels.

Somehow even all these seemed incapable of penetrating the darkness as much as they should.

The would-be team of Republic spies ran from the unstoppable barrage, frantically following the maps of the clone commandos, an entire army of battle droids fast on their heels.

* * *

Half an hour had passed.

Yet it seemed to have only lasted seconds.

Commander Wrench was out of breath, literally running for his life along with what remained of the covert team sent to the rusting planet of Raxus Prime.

They were fast tiring, their Jedi allies, and Force forbid, Wrench thought what will happen once their extraordinary abilities were to fail completely.

Their dire situation was reflected in that half hour, where half of his squadron had met their demise despite their and the Jedi's best efforts.

The first was torn asunder by the dwarf spider droid's cannon blast.

Two had the life crushed out of them by grapple droids.

One was gunned down with non-lethal injuries but immediately swarmed over by the army of battle droids.

Two more had fallen to an ambush by another group of destroyer droids just as they were to reach the accursed landing bay 13.

Wrench could remember the agonized voices of his comrades— _no...my brothers—_ echoing through his helmet.

He knew he would remember them until the day he himself met death.

It darkly surprised him that he was so disturbed with these deaths. Hadn't he been on the frontline of numerous battles since the war began?

He was a veteran during the Battle of Geonosis, where he had not only survived, but also distinguished himself in the savage fighting that had occurred in the Geonosian catacombs.

There he remembered the dying screams of a countless many clones. Those of his brothers, in a sense.

Yet he was detached from those horrors.

A memory he simply had.

What was unfolding now, as he attempted to return fire with his blaster pistol while Masters Orvid and Ardann were providing him vital cover, was something else.

Something he had never experienced before.

Wrench knew deep down that this was a battle they can never hope to win.

 _If there was even any hope..._

He had to shake himself out of that despair as they ran toward an old vent that heralded the exit.

They needed to survive.

They _must._

The Wookiee Jedi Warrgo made short work of the vent with his lightsaber and a Force push, and the tired, despairing group wasted no time at all in making their way down.

As soon as his helmet's audio sensors picked up the familiar _whirr_ of the gunship's engines, his spirits could not help but rise even as battle droids continued to assault them not only from behind at that point, but from practically every direction.

The gunship was fast heading toward them and had begun to return fire to the advancing machine horde.

 _We are going to make it!_ he thought gratefully as he watched the machine army quickly retreating from the gunship's barrage of fire.

* * *

Orvid couldn't quite process what had just happened.

They _were_ going to make it—or so he thought.

The gunship had already landed and its bay doors were open and ready to receive their group as soon as they reached it.

Just then, _something_ had shot down from the heights of the derelict garrison directly toward the gunship with unbelievable speed.

What disturbed the Rodian Jedi most was not that the gunship had immediately exploded upon contact with the object—he didn't even hear the explosion though the resulting shockwave from the explosion had thrown the remains of their team backward.

It was what Orvid heard from the thing that had turned their transport into twisted, burning scrap which sent splinters of fear through him.

Though he was still in a daze as he attempted to reach out his stirring Padawan, he _knew_ that sound, and knew it intimately.

Every Jedi did.

The sound of lightsabers igniting.

When he reached his Mirialan Padawan, her eyes were staring wide with fear at the burning wreckage of the gunship.

He knew that it had nothing to do with any injury that she had sustained.

When he turned his own gaze towards the ruined ship, even _he_ was transfixed.

Something was rising out of the flames.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

Through double vision, Azaleé Myrra beheld the thing rising out of the wreckage.

It seemed to be all but unaffected by the inferno surrounding it.

Only a cape like garment it wore blazed and whipped around it from the searing updrafts of the flames.

The inferno threw it in silhouette to the transfixed republic recon team as they beheld its skeletal appearance and imposing height.

When the figure stood to its full height, they caught a glimpse of its face.

Or what _served_ for its face.

A mask whiter than death, and in its sockets were blazing golden, slit-pupilled eyes hungrily looking at them from the gloom.

A demon summoned from the pits of whatever dark hell that existed.

Just as the gunship had burst apart, she felt fear explode into every particle of her being as the skeletal monster in the burning cape began to stride out of the fire.

Her heavy breathing began to catch in her throat when she heard a guttural roar from behind her.

Warrgo had lunged toward the monster in the fire, his amethyst lightsaber held aloft.

* * *

Among the Jedi Knights of his generation, Warrgo had become a rising star due to his strength, valor and courage.

Powerful in the Force, he was also a master practitioner of Form V, which made the most of Jedi who possessed prodigious natural strength.

The Wookiee had even modified his lightsaber to capitalize on that quality upon ascending to Knighthood; more massive and consequently with a longer and broader blade than a regular lightsaber, Warrgo's lightclub brought with it the advantage of reach and added force.

It was through those measures of competence by which Warrgo had survived every battle he had experienced, literally beating down every opponent he had faced.

Myrra expected the demon—whatever it was—to meet its end through the same.

Just then _it_ held up high a lightsaber that erupted a blade of green fire.

Then there was this mind-numbingly fast flash of green; one which Warrgo had only managed to block at the very last possible moment.

Warrgo _was_ strong, but he was not nearly strong enough.

To their combined horror, the thing's one-handed strike instantly buckled _both_ of Warrgo's arms and they beheld the gruesome spectacle of the giant amethyst lightsaber carving into the shoulder of its owner.

The sword of green fire then finished the job with impunity.

Warrgo was cleaved in half literally and effortlessly in the blink of an eye.

* * *

Azaleé Myrra felt oddly detached from her horror even as she saw through double vision how the skeletal monster split Warrgo in two with just one overhead strike.

She was numb—from absolute fear or from her injuries she did not know.

Everything seemed to unfold in blaze of hazy lights and fuzzy sounds.

The female human could have sworn she saw and heard the clone commandos open fire at the skeletal figure.

Perhaps it was the choking darkness of the night in Raxus Prime.

Perhaps it was the dancing flames and toxic fumes from the corpse of their transport.

Those could have all played tricks on her rattled mind.

She was sure that the thing had suddenly appeared in the throng of clones, whether it could instantly change it position through space and time or simply moved with impossible speed, she did not know.

But it possessed _two_ lightsabers now.

One blue and one green, and she saw how it killed three clones in one effortless move.

Blaster bolts seemed to be as ineffectual against it as the inferno from which it was born.

Even then, the surviving commandos continued to throw everything they had it.

And even when two humanoids; one sporting a green blade and another with dual blue sabers— _were those Masters Orvid and Ardann?_ —proceeded to duel the monster, she thought she heard Master Ardann's voice shouting as if from underwater.

" _Back to—garrison! Back—NOW! Shasta—Commander—"_

She then felt someone helping her get to her feet and felt a small sting on her shoulder—a revitalin shot.

The drug worked almost immediately and her head began to clear.

She saw that her arm was slung over the shoulders of the young Mirialan, Shasta Orsin.

Surrounding them were five surviving clones, Commander Wrench included, who were fast running back up the vent they had exited from.

Silhouetted by the burning wreck, Myrra saw both Jedi Masters were still engaged with the monster.

Myrra knew she needed to help the Masters and immediately rushed back despite Shasta's protests.

* * *

As she ran back down the slope of junk, Myrra could tell that the thing was frighteningly skilled in lightsaber combat.

It clearly possessed strength and speed far beyond most beings and it fought with unpredictable and unorthodox tactics—her eyes did not deceive her when she saw the skeletal demon fight not only its hands but with _its feet_ —tossing and shuffling both of its lightsabers in impossible maneuvers, nearly catching Ardann and Orvid off guard as it did.

Even when both Masters called on the Force in tossing all sorts of objects in an attempt to subdue their adversary, it simply leapt or twisted out of the way with its extraordinary reflexes. It then immediately closed the gap between them where they could not use such tactics.

She leapt from the slope and ignited her twin blue shotos,—dagger-like variants of the lightsaber— aiming for the monster who had just delivered a vicious backhand that sent the Rodian Jedi Master flying backward.

She and Master Ardann struck at the same time with speed capable only by those touched by the Force.

Most opponents wouldn't even have time to react to such a joint attack, much less have the strength to withstand it.

But the demon _did_ and did so with astounding ease.

It met their strikes head on, blocking both the Zeltron Jedi Master's blades with one hand and Myrra's twin shoto with the other.

She knew that it possessed unnatural strength after it had brutally executed Warrgo.

Even then, she could not believe how _powerful_ it was until she felt it block her attack.

Her fears were fast multiplying as she felt herself _losing_ the saberlock—the skeletal monster's malevolent golden eyes were fixed on her and the green blade that had caught _both_ of hers was inexorably inching toward her.

She was too afraid to notice Master Ardann was himself struggling.

Azaleé Myrra could taste the bile rise in her throat and the scent of ozone mixing with the smog as she strained to keep her opponent's blade at bay.

 _Force have mercy!_

Just then the lock was broken and Myrra's saw the skeletal monster thrown back violently by a Force push from the recovered Master Orvid.

Wasting no time, she hurled all manner of debris at the thing, feeling a sense of satisfaction on the sounds of metal-on-metal, knowing she hit her mark.

Master Ardann compounded her action by sending a massive section of rusted pipe which he had torn out from the wall of the derelict garrison hurtling down at the creature who was then recovering from her assault.

She thought it was over and wanted to rest—only for the thing to suddenly rise like a vengeful wraith and _catch_ the great pipe with its hands.

The momentum from the Force push by Master Ardann and the sheer mass of the pipe was such however, that even with all its frightening strength, the monster was forced backward, its talons screeching and sparking as they dug onto the rusted floor.

Myrra then felt her hand being tugged and soon she was running alongside Masters Orvid and Ardann back up the slope.

A loud gong-like noise told them that either their adversary had dropped the pipe or was pinned beneath it. Or so they hoped.

The Jedi did not stop to check and soon enough, metallic footfalls were heard, fast on their trail.

As soon all three of them had made their way into the vent did they all bring the roof down to seal the broken vent for good.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

"What was _that_?" Shasta asked what remained of their beaten and battered group.

They had regrouped in an abandoned and out-of-the way storeroom within the garrison, wary for the droid army that had pursued them so intently only moments before.

"It's not finished, that's for sure," Ardann said as he consulted the holographic map of the facility—now in full—with Commander Wrench.

"Do not fear, my Padawan." Orvid assured her even as he looked grimmer than ever, "fear of the unknown is but a distraction."

There will be no more retrieval of the code. If there even was one.

Too many lives had already been lost and they were still in a most perilous situation.

They had even more vital information than the code—that of a _new_ enemy.

A monster.

The Republic needed to know that it existed and what it was capable of.

For that they needed backup and they needed it fast.

Commander Wrench and the surviving comms specialist had tried their best to request help from every Republic frequency only to find their lines dead.

Its implication was truly unsettling.

The Separatists wouldn't have gone through the trouble of blocking _every_ known Republic frequency if they didn't expect any unwelcome visitors.

The only feasible explanation was that they _had_ been set up for some unspeakable purpose.

"There is a communications hub within this garrison," Master Ardann said under his breath, "we could send a coded hyperwave SOS from here that can be heard by any capital ships of ours within 2 parsecs. The comms facility has to be operational at this point, otherwise the droids wouldn't have been alerted to our presence earlier."

"But we've attempted transmissions already," argued the Rodian Master, "would it not be better perhaps for us to look for a ship? This _is_ a garrison after all."

The comms specialist shook his head ruefully, "Negative on that, General Orvid. All the records we've retrieved earlier indicated that all vessels capable of flight or hyperspace travel have vacated this garrison two standard months ago. The system diagnostic the Commander ran just a few minutes ago confirmed it."

"It may be our _only_ option, Master Orvid," Ardann said, looking into the Rodian's large eyes, "there is a chance that the Separatists won't expect us to make it anyway. Assuming that is the case, it may be some time before they realize that the transmission from this facility was our message and not an automated routine one."

"Why will they expect us not to make it?" Orvid asked, his eyes narrowing

The Zeltron gave a pained smile and pointed toward the center of the labyrinthine hologram, "it's _there_. They knew someone from the Republic was coming—no, they _wanted_ us to come here. I'm so sorry I led us into this sick game."

Orvid breathed and laid a hand on Ardann's shoulder.

So did Wrench, Myrra and Shasta.

"We knew what we got into," Orvid said, giving an exhausted smile.

The young Mirialan smiled as well, "We _will_ make it, Master."

Ardann felt his spirits rise.

"May the Force be with us then"

Just then, an almighty machine-like grinding rattled the entire room and the survivors beheld the walls, floor and ceiling of the abandoned facility begin to move on their own accord.

* * *

Shasta Orsin had never felt more afraid.

As the surviving members of their group ran for their lives in the rapidly self-shifting rooms of the garrison, her Master's words, _Fear of the unknown is but a distraction_ , constantly rattled inside her head.

But these were feeble whispers.

There was another voice inside her. A _silent_ one that nonetheless spoke louder than anything she had ever experienced.

Louder even than the hellish cacophony of the clockwork powering the garrison.

 _Fear_.

Raw fear possessed her.

Forget the fact that they were being hounded by that unstoppable monster.

Forget the possibility that such a beast was another Sith.

It was as if the dark side on Raxus Prime had come alive all of a sudden after centuries of dormancy.

The _true_ monster had awoken and their fear was the trigger.

The dark side of the Force, a taint long ago left on Raxus Prime's accursed soil by the both Ulic Qel-Droma's actions and Revan's Sith Empire of old, was fast feeding on _them_.

Their will was its sustenance, and in return, the dark side fostered and bred their fear.

Choking them.

Killing them.

Softly.

Slowly.

The Mirialan Padawan had to focus herself out of such fear and her empathic abilities told her that the others attempting to do the same.

And they were failing.

The shifting structures were themselves hazardous; to be caught in the moving panels or massive gears was to risk being crushed or sundered, and on occasion, would reveal broken pipes that spat out corrosive fluids and noxious vapour. Commander Wrench's helmet had suffered a face full of what smelled like xenoboric acid from one such surprise hiding behind a shifting ceiling and he immediately wrested it away lest the lethal fluid dissolve his skull.

In addition to the chaotic scrambling of the garrison itself, the sound of mechanized footfalls added to the din.

The droid army had returned, and likely with them was the thing that had slain Warrgo with one effortless strike.

The darkness made it difficult for such a group to navigate, and all of them were on guard and desperately trying to keep all their members together. It was obvious that to be separated from the rest was a death sentence.

They weathered through the occasional hail of blaster bolts, using the shifting walls of the garrison to their aid, shutting out advancing droids and chasing every opening they could find.

Such an opening presented itself when a wall suddenly sank into the tarnished floor.

Just as she was to enter the temporary opening, something slammed into her from the back and metallic arms stronger than any living being's began to crush the very life out of her.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

The dark side was not their only enemy; _time_ too was against their side.

The shifting garrison forced them to improvise their paths just to get to the communications hub and the fact that they were literally running for their lives did not help.

Every moment counted.

Every second could have been their last.

Such was the truth when his padawan was suddenly seized from behind by a grapple droid.

It was not alone; flanking it were three more grapple droids and a battalion of super battle droids.

Orvid had been a Jedi for longer than a human lifetime and knew attachment led down the path of misery.

He had attempted to live by that belief for as long as he could remember.

That stoicism was something he was renowned for among his peers.

Little did they know that despite his exterior, the Rodian Jedi Master had always found it difficult to part ways with the beings he held close to his heart.

Such was what happened when he lost his first apprentice a decade before in circumstances beyond his own control; he had gone into isolation on the pretense of meditating and willing his grief away. And while that appeared to be true when he once again answered the call of Jedi duty, he had spent his time consumed by his grief.

His first apprentice's death flashed before his eyes, but this time he realized, he _could_ make a choice.

Every second passing by was a second closer to Shasta's death.

The logical choice would have been to leave her.

It was the _Jedi_ choice.

She was far more mature than he was, and knew she had already accepted her death.

It was precisely why he _had_ to save her.

Orvid broke formation, knocking aside Vaun Ardann as he charged with lightsaber ignited toward the war machines and his apprentice.

The Rodian Jedi Master didn't take any chances as he furiously deflected every bolt that the legion of droids had thrown at him.

The droid which held Shasta Orsin in its durasteel grip was retreating into the throng of super battle droids.

 _No!_

The three remaining grapple droids immediately attempted to crush or strike at him, but he was a master of Soresu—turning defensive manoeuvres into offense was a speciality of his—and he dodged or parried every attack, dismembering one of the grapple droids as he did.

He didn't notice Ardann and Myrra immediately diving into the thick of the battle while providing much needed cover for the remaining clones who returned fire to the droids already engaged and any new ones that would inevitably appear from the openings made by the shifting walls.

Only his apprentice mattered.

When the Rodian Jedi master finally caught up to the fleeing droid, he wasted no time and aimed low to sever its knees. Even as it toppled over with Shasta Orsin still in its unwavering grip, Master Orvid plunged his green blade through what served as the head of the grapple droid, burning deep into its torso and central computer.

It was non-functional by the time it hit the floor and the young Mirialan rolled out of its lifeless arms. Fortuitously, the group had suffered no losses and had even managed to eliminate every droid that had thus come their way.

Orvid went over to his pale, unconscious apprentice and immediately examined her.

 _Shasta, my apprentice!_

He was relieved when he felt her pulse—it was sluggish but steady. She was breathing steadily as well.

She was alive, and that was what mattered.

He had just slung her over his shoulders in a fireman carry when a wall panel opened to reveal another grapple droid flying at him with its claws outstretched— Vaun Ardann came to his defense and struck down the attacking droid.

"Go, now! GO!" the Zeltron yelled.

Then Orvid saw it exploding _through_ one of the few stationary walls.

Two lightsabers aloft, the thing that had attacked them earlier would have killed Vaun Ardann while he was momentarily distracted had not Azaleé Myrra intercepted its lunge.

Two clones immediately rushed over to help Shasta while he immediately joined his comrades to engage the monster once more.

* * *

It was three against one, and yet the three were the ones who were faltering.

Vaun Ardann was realizing this in the back of his mind, focused on blocking another blow from the creature, when a taloned, metal foot shot out from beneath him.

The Zeltron almost blacked out when it connected to his midsection, throwing him several meters backward.

He had only managed to use the Force just in time to cushion the impact of the thing's foot and even then it had hurt him severely.

The monster didn't even seem to be breaking a sweat.

Reeling, he saw the clones were busy holding out on their own against a fresh battalion of droids—Shasta herself had recovered enough to assist the clones.

Ardann winced in pain as he attempted to get up, calling on the Force to help him out when he beheld the skeletal monster grab Azaleé Myrra by the midsection and hurl her violently into the gloom even as it continued to engage Orvid alone in single combat.

* * *

Orvid caught every blow the monster had decided to rain down on him, but only _just_.

It had been difficult fighting _it_ with aid from Myrra and Ardann; now that he was alone, he knew that his adversary was something he could not hope to overcome.

Only his own skill in Soresu kept him alive and he knew that that might be all it could amount to.

But he was a Jedi.

 _I will not yield!_

He thought of Shasta, whom he saw in the corner of his eye catching blaster bolts skillfully with her blade, defending the clones.

It gave him courage such that he used his defense to eventually _attack_.

A slight change in the angle of his own blade had nearly cost the unyielding monster a hand, and he saw through its golden eyes genuine surprise as it hurriedly blocked a riposte that would have burnt through its mask of a face had it connected.

Giving no quarter, Master Orvid cut loose and fought back with all the strength he could muster.

 _I WILL NOT YIELD!_

Orvid countered every strike the thing had attempted; and every counter was an attack that his adversary had to compensate for. One such counterattack had actually managed to singe the tip of its shoulder, adding the sharp molten tang to the rusty atmosphere.

But he was fast tiring, both from the monster's attempts and his own half-blind maneuverings to avoid being trapped or sundered by the moving walls and floors.

The monster did not seem to have such limitations.

Worse, it had sensed his weakness, and responded in kind with a frightening twist – attacking while rapidly _spinning_ its blades.

Orvid had no idea how to counter _that_ , and cold fear gripped his heart truly for the first time during the battle even as he attempted to block the rotating saws of plasma from tearing him apart.

At last the thing broke through his defense with a well-timed and impossibly powerful spinning slash whose momentum tore the lightsaber from his fingers and sent him stumbling down.

Only Ardann's and a recovered Myrra's timely joint attack on the creature saved him—and when their two fronted assault forced the creature into another saberlock, Orvid saw his opportunity and took it.

Calling the Force with all the will he had left, he directed a wave of energy toward the demon in that infinitesimal bit of time.

But it was enough.

He let out a sigh of relief seeing the monster thrown violently through a static permacrete pillar that promptly collapsed and buried it under.

* * *

With a stylish flourish, Shasta Orsin sent the volleys of blaster bolts of three super battle droids back onto their sources which promptly then collapsed into piles of scrap.

Her heart rejoiced as she saw Master Ardann, Azaleé Myrra and her own master running back to their small group, which had miraculously survived the onslaught of the droids complete.

Just then she felt an unsettling echo in the Force—

Droids had by then again begun to flood out inexorably through the gloom and the shifting walls, forcing them on the defensive as they attempted to flee.

The darkness and the mechanical chaos within the garrison only added to their problems.

Their group didn't hear the explosive sound _it_ made when it burst like an angry god from its erstwhile tomb. They did not see how _it_ shot up with inhuman speed toward the shifting ceiling and then toward its target.

The echo Shasta felt earlier then turned into a knife-stab from the abyss of the dark side; a blade that tore through her very being.

Out of nowhere then came a scream of horror that assailed her ears.

Her master had been preoccupied—deflecting swarms of blaster bolts with his green blade when the monster suddenly came down upon him with a vengeance—pinning Orvid down on the floor with one powerful taloned foot and driving its two lightsabers to their hilts through the Rodian's ribcage in brutal finality.

Only then did Shasta Orsin realize that the screaming was hers.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII**

The pain of Orvid's savage murder rang through the Force, and Vaun Ardann felt it even as he charged through the hail of blaster bolts in an attempt to reach the thing that had slain the Rodian Jedi Master.

"Run! Get to the comms hub!—" he shouted, despite Myrra's protests and the uncontrollable sobbing of Orvid's Padawan, "I'll catch up! GO!"

Ardann found quickly enough that there were simply too many droids, and so he altered his original plan— for the greater good.

He stopped his mad charge and instead stood as a one being vanguard against the storm of blaster bolts to shield the remaining members of his party, barking out of desperation that they _must_ make it.

Commander Wrench and Azaleé Myrra soon got to their senses, and with heavy hearts quickly led the battered remains of their group out into the shifting gloom.

He thought that the monster would take advantage of his compromised position. He understood that much and Ardann had already accepted the grim outcome if it meant that the Republic and the rest of the Jedi would discover what had transpired there on Raxus Prime.

He also thought he could find some peace knowing that maybe, _just maybe_ , the others might find some way to escape this accursed, rusting world from whatever time he could buy them.

 _It would be a good death,_ a small voice in his mind said bleakly.

And so he continued his charade, blocking the storm of blaster bolts and sending them ricocheting to the walls or back on their sources, taking care to mind his position to avoid the shifting floors and walls when and where they came.

The monster, still silently perched atop Orvid's mutilated corpse, seemed entertained by the spectacle—or at least that was what Ardann thought he could make of in the crepuscular light.

Many times the Zeltron Jedi had deflected blaster bolts toward _it_ , but for all he did, the monster did not even budge—each of the blaster bolts found their mark and the creature simply stood, unharmed, with a bemused expression in its golden reptilian eyes.

Ardann thought grimly that perhaps this was how _it_ —somehow in league with the droid army—planned to see him dead.

Watching him tire from the inexorable assault of the droids which had by then obscured his view of the monster.

Watching him make the mistakes that would eventually get him killed.

And then he heard the sound of metal bodies being cut to pieces, the storm of blasterfire abruptly ceasing, and the veritable army of machines separating him and his quarry was suddenly gone.

Instead, he beheld a sea of mechanized carnage, the reek of scorched metal and singed circuitry, artificial beings torn apart by lightsabers held in merciless skeletal hands.

Illuminated by the dim light and the sepulchral glow of still-molten droid parts, its perpetrator stood in front of him with its green and blue blade ignited, golden eyes ablaze.

It stood posed in a stance that dared Ardann to attack.

His anguish and his fears had allowed the dark side, impatient and ever-hungry, to poison him even more than it had.

His fear then turned to fury.

All that he knew then was that a challenge stood before him, and Master Ardann felt a certain savage pleasure unlike any he had ever experienced.

 _So be it, monster._

* * *

 _I should not have left him_ , Azaleé Myrra chastised herself while their paltry group ran for their lives.

Battered and bloody, they grew unnerved again with the lack of attacking machines even as the garrison walls, floor and ceiling continued to periodically change position.

 _I should not have left him!_

She had to actually slap Shasta Orsin on the face to get her back to her senses. She knew that seeing her own Master butchered in front of her was traumatic enough and yet something else had caused the young Mirialan to break down psychologically.

She reached through the Force in an attempt to calm the still sobbing Padawan as they ran with the remaining clone commandos. Instead of becalming the younger Jedi, she felt the brunt of the horror festering inside her.

It took all the Jedi reserve Myrra had to stop that fear from claiming her, from corrupting her mind from within.

 _There is no emotion, there is peace..._ and mentally, the young Jedi Knight used the Jedi Code to strengthen her resolve. Even as she ran, she attempted to use her own influence to becalm the distraught young Padawan, and to some extent had succeeded.

"General! Look out!" a commando suddenly cried out.

Only her lightning fast reflexes saved her from having her skull cracked open by a crackling staff-like weapon held in the hands of a humanoid assailant that had erupted from the shifting darkness.

For a split second, Myrra thought that the monster that had so relentlessly pursued them had caught up, when she saw that her assailant was some strange droid—almost human in its aspect, with eerie, emotionless, red photoreceptors.

The humanoid droid quickly lashed out with its weapon, a metal staff whose ends crackled with purple lightning, aiming for the crouched Jedi's head.

It did not help Myrra's feeling of distress when her twin shoto parried only to find the staff resisting her blades.

And it was not alone—seven more droids of the same variety followed the first from a hatch that had opened from the rusting ceiling immediately engaged them. Shasta had thankfully recovered by then and the surviving clones had brought out their standard issue force pikes in the nick of time.

The female Jedi Knight went on the offensive, using her speed in an attempt to get close enough where its staff would be a hindrance, only for the droid to respond in kind—blocking her Ataru fuelled flurry while simultaneously maintaining enough distance between them with mechanical reflexes and heuristic combat programming rivalling the Force-given prowess of the Jedi.

In her attempts to get closer to the red-eyed metal humanoid, its blinding staff caught her in the side and sent her sprawling in retreat.

 _They_ are _getting smarter_ , she thought grimly while clutching her injured side.

The female human Jedi then decided to alter her tactics.

It became clear to Myrra that her opponent's programming allowed it to decipher her fighting style—but it was a machine, and machines never did well against unpredictability.

She feigned another headlong assault, and true enough, the staff-wielding droid met her first shoto head on—only for Myrra to double back and perform a spinning Shien-inspired low sweep with her second, slashing through the mid thighs of her opponent.

The droid momentarily faltered with the loss of its limbs, and Myrra wasted no time. She gathered the Force within her and anticipated her opponent's fall even as it tried to gain leverage with its staff.

The droid's legless torso was in pieces by the time it hit the floor, and the Jedi quickly moved to help her team which had become dispersed through the shifting corridors from this latest ambush.

Out of the corner of her eye, Myrra saw the first casualty on her team since the monster's last attack—a _headless_ droid had run its staff clean through the abdominal plates of a commando and then bashed his skull in as he keeled forward.

The droid—if it could—did not have much time to savor its victory before Commander Wrench who had just managed to ram his opponent onto the path of a descending wall, fired a volley of blaster bolts that sent it stumbling back.

Myrra finished the job by running both her shotos into its torso.

If these could fight after being decapitated, she was taking no chances, and with newfound resolve rushed to help her comrades who were still in the heat of mortal combat.


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII**

Juyo, the seventh form of classical lightsaber combat, was arguably the most complex fighting style espoused by the Jedi in their entire twenty-five thousand year history.

A unique, internal focus was required; a certain paradox that derived inner peace _from_ chaos. It was done by feeding one's resolve from the heat of battle to supply the deadly unpredictability that gave Form VII an edge over nearly every other lightsaber style.

It was something that made most Jedi turn away from learning it despite the considerable power it gave to its wielder.

To dance along the line that separates the light and the dark was a dangerous path for a Jedi indeed.

And yet there were some Jedi who simply thrived in that duality, Vaun Ardann being one of them.

He had found Juyo to be an almost natural complement to his laid-back yet adventurous persona, and his drive to achieve had made him a practitioner of the highest level—wielding a Jar'Kai variant of Juyo which few opponents have ever withstood against.

In his more arrogant moments, Ardann thought that he could count with two hands the number of people that could best him.

Now he needed more.

This creature was unlike anyone or _anything_ he had ever faced.

Never had he fought another being whose strikes seemed to blink in and out of existence from mind numbing speed.

Never had he faced an opponent whose every blow seemed to resonate with the power of a meteor making planetfall.

The shifting walls and ceiling made no difference to it; Ardann was astonished when it leapt straight up onto the ceiling of a narrow, mercifully static passage to avoid a defensive swipe he had aimed at its legs, only for it to resume the fight while _upside down_ on the ceiling with its taloned feet.

His fury fuelled him, and yet his adversary—if it ever did—gave no quarter either.

From its unorthodox position, the monster rapidly spun its two lightsabers in that dark, claustrophobic space, cutting through the wall and ceiling panels, until an oblate sphere of annihilating blue and green plasma with merciless yellow eyes was charging down the Zeltron Jedi.

Ardann had no choice but to run for his life in the opposite direction while the charging monster with chain lightning teeth shredded the walls and roof of the tunnel, leaving red-hot molten gouges in its wake.

Ardann only managed to leap out of the tunnel just in time before the monster detached itself from the ceiling and attempted to crush him underfoot.

* * *

He landed in an atrium within the garrison, one where the walls and floor did not shift and the ceiling was hidden in total shadow.

If there were doors or shifting walls there, he could only hear them whirring softly in the inky, rust-smelling darkness.

The only lights present there were the swords of blue fire he held in each hand.

And then he heard it—that maddening sound of metal talons coming from the dark.

It was everywhere at once, and his fear and rage made him blind to whatever foresight the Force could give him.

More than ever, Vaun Ardann understood.

Their adversary was, first and foremost, a predator and _they_ were its prey.

The fury that had spurred him to fight only moments ago had mutated back to fear and vice versa.

Feeding on and strengthening each other, suffocating their Jedi prey.

The Zeltron Jedi could hear his own heart thumping in his throat.

The acrid feel of Raxus Prime's air in his heavy breaths.

The very _fear_ flowing inside his veins.

Only his Jedi reflexes saved him when the monster burst out from the darkness to strike.

Ardann had thought that fighting the monster was difficult in the shifting halls.

In that static atrium though, it was almost impossible.

The thing became a blinding storm where blue and green blades of lightning struck in every conceivable direction.

It fought in positions Ardann thought impossible; fighting with and juggling its two swords from its hands or its taloned feet so as not to present a viable target to the Zeltron Jedi Master's own counters.

His own attacks often missed entirely whenever the monster would twist itself out of the way with speed impossible for a creature of its stature or when it would _let go_ of its lightsabers only to catch them seconds later whenever Ardann managed to aim an attack successfully at either of its wrists or ankles.

He had—with great effort—managed to put some space between them for a moment.

In that moment he attempted again to slam the monster away with a Force wave only for it to fail when it lodged its talons deep into the rusty floor panels, screeching and sparking but holding its position and then launching itself again into the fray.

Every attempt he made in hurling objects at it with the Force was also met with dismal failure.

Ardann's own exhaustion was taking the better of him.

His offense had already begun to falter and soon enough Ardann could feel himself becoming trapped inside his own skull and his fear began to blossom into something he could finally understand.

The skeletal demon was inexorable and if possible, _invigorated_.

It was all he could do to avoid becoming cut in half as Warrgo did; he could no longer really meet its attacks head-on, Ardann could only use his two sabers to angle the monster's attacks just enough for him to get ready again for the next.

In the Force he could feel the creature enjoying his despair.

The predator had smelled blood.

* * *

After that charade, it decided to end the fight with one almighty leaping blow from _both_ its blades.

The Zeltron Jedi Master was utterly astonished when his two lightsabers were knocked flying out of his trembling hands, falling hard on his back from the sheer momentum the creature had placed behind its attack.

Just as he prepared himself for the inevitable did his enemy suddenly look upward into the black ceiling, its silhouette looking indeed like some predatory creature that had sniffed fresh meat.

As suddenly as it had rid Ardann of his weapons did it shoot up into the darkness.

Only the ominous sound of metal talons bounding on all fours growing more silent by the moment remained.

He collected himself immediately and summoned his two lightsabers using the Force. Just as their hilts landed in his palms did the Force breathe into him something that chilled him to the bone.

 _No!_

Gathering his strength once more, Master Vaun Ardann attempted to follow the creature's lead as fast as the Force could carry him.


	9. Chapter 9

**IX**

A spray of caustic fluid from a newly exposed pipe allowed Shasta Orsin to get her bearings from the advancing staff-wielding droid.

She had just defeated one of its colleagues when another pair engaged her and Myrra who had caught up to her position.

The droids quickly split the pair of female Jedi for added advantage.

Her opponent was every bit as skilled as she was, and had it not been for the shifting ceiling panel that exposed the said pipe, it would have shocked her to death with its staff.

The young Mirialan was exhausted, but knew she needed to fight.

She used the Force to further direct the corrosive fluid on the recoiling droid whose metal exoskeleton had already begun to melt.

It staggered further and the tired Padawan wasted no time in performing a rolling vault and succesfully landing _sai tok_ —halving the humanoid droid and following with a downward stab through its torso, finally ending the fight.

She rushed to help the elder Jedi Knight only to find that Myrra had already taken care of her opponent by smartly Force pushing the attacking droid into a giant gear that promptly ground it to sparking pieces.

The female human Jedi was out of breath but otherwise in alright shape. They were fast joined by Commander Wrench and nine weary commandos—two more of their number had fallen in the ambush by the humanoid staff-wielding droids.

"How much further to the communications hub?" Myrra asked, slightly out of breath.

As of then, she was the ranking officer in the absence of Masters Orvid and Ardann.

Applying a bacta patch to his bleeding lip, Commander Wrench and the last surviving comms specialist then reviewed the holoprojector layout of the garrison.

The comms specialist replied, "Not much further, General Myrra. We should be able to reach it shortly should we take this path," motioning towards a track of light in the hologram.

"Let's make this quick."

And then Shasta felt _it_ again.

The echo in the Force, and though she kept herself together at that time, it was already too late.

By the time she had opened her mouth to warn of its presence, it was _already_ behind her.

That it took their group by surprise was an understatement.

Then she was falling backward, crumpling beneath her weight.

Only when her body hit the tarnished floor did she feel the explosions of pain from the stumps that used to be her legs and left arm.

From her supine position, she saw in the dim light how the skeletal being kicked Azaleé Myrra aside while simultaneously bisecting three of the surviving commandos with one swipe.

While the thing had its back on him, a lone clone commando attempted to spear it with his force pike.

In her limbless, agonized state, Shasta felt a new surge of sick revulsion when she heard the commando's spine crack open when the monster suddenly twisted about to grab him bodily, and hurl him into the path of a descending wall panel.

The monster engaged three more force pike wielding troopers shortly after and the fight was won without much effort.

One trooper decapitated with a careless flick of its hand.

The next, disemboweled.

A third was shredded into flecks of meat, blood and bone with the sawlike motions of the monster's blades.

The acid tang of the air grew with the scent of fresh blood and thicker with the taint of even fresher fear.

* * *

Shasta was helpless and afraid, curled on a cold wasted metal floor, and by then she felt her very sanity leaving her.

The silent voices were again speaking inside her head, whispering from depths older, colder, and darker than intergalactic space.

The dark side of the Force was an impatient and insatiable beast.

And it wanted more than what it had already taken.

Her pain and horror allowed the darkness to devour her from within.

Despite her deranged state, a part of her could not believe how fast events were unfolding, and her momentary glimpses of reality greeted her only with horrors.

She saw the corpse of a clone who had been impaled through the mouth and out the back of his neck with a force pike driven deep onto the floor.

Another commando was deprived of all four of his limbs from a masterful circular riposte from the monster, and Shasta heard the clone's tortured yell as he tumbled down.

She beheld Commander Wrench's gruesome death when the monster slammed him hard onto a permacrete pillar and then proceeded to brutally tear his jaw and throat out with its clawed hand.

His tormented last scream sent another paroxysm of terror through the young Mirialan.

The voices whispered further madness and as if to drive the point home somehow she could not take her eyes off the dimly lit monstrosity as it faced off its last surviving quarry.

Azalee' Myrra hurled a dead commando's pike aimed at their enemy's face using the Force—only for it to shatter the sparking pike with a crossing swipe of its two lightsabers.

A short duel then ensued where Myrra desperately wove in and out of the monster's lethal blades—and then Shasta thought that Myrra had seen an opening in the monster's defense— the Jedi Knight had dived forward and aimed both shotos into the creature's torso.

But it was not to be.

The creature had baited Myrra, and she had taken it.

Her momentum carried her forward, and by the time she had realized her mistake, the monster had sealed her fate.

The thing twisted back and its taloned foot grabbed Myrra's midsection. The same clawed foot then slammed her violently onto a low ceiling with the impact actually denting the panel.

The towering beast then performed a series of motions that systematically hacked the stunned Jedi Knight while she fell toward earth.

The first slash took away Myrra's left leg at the thigh.

The second cleaved away a third of her torso.

And the last partially decapitated the human Jedi diagonally across the midline.

Azaleé Myrra was in pieces by the time she hit the garrison floor.

The silhouetted monster then turned its back to the crippled Padawan and casually strode over to pick up with one clawed hand the sobbing, pleading, still-living torso that had once been a clone commando by the crown of his helmeted head.

Shasta shut her eyes but for the life of her could not block out the hideous, crunching noise of plasteel and bones being crushed with impossible strength nor could she the inhuman wails of agony the last commando gave before the top his skull broke open.

She was openly crying then.

Her mind half-shattered by fear and the dark side, her will nonexistent, her very being destroyed.

She closed her eyes in a vain belief that she could shut it all away but alas, the sound of clanging footfalls grew nearer and nearer.

Soon the universe was but the darkness behind her eyelids and that infernal noise.

* * *

 _Please don't let me be too late_...

Jedi Master Vaun Ardann ran as fast as he could through the darkness.

He felt through the Force all he needed to know where he was supposed to be going.

But his fear and the dark side of the Force clouded his senses to the truth.

He had to see it for himself.

 _Please!_

In his haste he tripped over something and fell unceremoniously onto the rusted floor.

His nostrils smelled blood and the fetid odor of charred flesh while he got up.

In the dim light he saw his own crimson skin stained with something darker.

He took a closer look at the object he had tripped on and immediately recoiled in horror when he understood what it was.

Roughly a quarter of a human head sporting shorn locks of dark brown hair looked up at him with a glazed, dead eye.

He got back to his feet and only then did his eyes behold the carnage.

A leg and mutilated abdomen in Jedi robes.

A limbless torso whose shattered scalp was reflected in the blood, bone and brain scattered about it.

The slumped corpse of the clone commander whose devastated neck still leaked blood.

The very floor and wall panels smeared in what appeared to be ground meat.

Ruined bodies and body parts, all fresh, all alive just moments ago.

 _I am too late..._

He soon realized that there was one body that wasn't present and Ardann desperately hoped that Shasta had survived.

As if on cue, the garrison stopped shifting as suddenly as it started only a few hours before.

The dead silence that had ensued was the eeriest thing the Jedi Master had ever heard in his life.

His eyes beheld a long, dimly lit tunnel with no end in sight.

He gathered his resolve and strode into the tunnel, his fear becoming rage.

Vaun Ardann was going to find his enemy, and he was going to make it pay even if it was the last thing he ever did.

* * *

It took him some time before he reached the end of the tunnel.

The sight that met him was unearthly.

Dozens of glowing red eyes met him at the end of a open-air plaza like structure bathed in the light of Raxus Prime's blood-red moon.

The crowd of red eyed humanoids stood as if sentinels and Ardann, standing his ground, was wary of engaging so many potential enemies despite his seething rage.

Then, from the throng of droids—for by then Ardann had noted the metal bodies and staff-like weapons of his would-be enemies—an object flew out and landed at his feet.

Another head—one with green skin and wide, young eyes fixed in an expression that was at once fearful and pleading.

A frozen echo of terror in space and time.

Ardann felt no fear that time when _it_ emerged from the crowd of humanoid droids.

For the first time since it had risen from the flames, Ardann fully beheld his adversary.

From the blood tinted moon, he saw that its white armor plating and mask was spattered in something dark.

The sight of it sent Vaun Ardann hurtling over the edge.

Igniting both lightsabers, he launched himself with a roar towards the monster that had massacred his entire team.


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

In his time, Master Vaun Ardann had bested many a formidable enemy.

But on that night he met his match.

The mechanical monstrosity did not even bother to ignite its own blades even when the Zeltron rushed with impossible speed across the plaza while the crowd of red-eyed droids seemed to watch the spectacle.

Ardann could already _feel_ his blades burning through his hated adversary's metal body as he raised his blue lightsabers high.

Then with speed surpassing anything the Jedi Master had encountered, it seemed to blink out of existence from where it once stood.

Ardann was ten feet away from the monster one moment, and suddenly they were face-to-face.

Only then, with a surge of sickening dread did he feel cold, inhuman hands closing against his wrists.

Ardann vainly attempted to push his attack desperately onward.

The reptilian eyes that now were the color of fire in the light of the red moon seemed to humor him for that most infinitesimal moment.

Then with effortless strength, it crushed and twisted his wrists.

His twin blue blades faded out of existence as they tumbled through his useless fingers, his scream of torment echoing through the dead junkscape of the planet.

The thing let go of his ruined wrists and as he crumpled forward, a metallic fist struck him in the gut with the force of a supernova.

Ardann's pain prevented him from using the Force from cushioning such an impact and he vomited out a torrent of blood, feeling the sickening sensation of ribs breaking and organs rupturing from within.

The Zeltron Jedi tumbled backward from the ironclad fist and just as his body hit the scrap that served for the floor did a taloned foot shatter his right knee into oblivion.

A fresh, hoarse shout of agony brought forth another paroxysm of bloody vomitus.

Under the red rays of Raxus Prime's moon did he try to crawl toward the tunnel.

His hope.

His valor.

His knowledge of the Force.

His very life.

All meaningless then in the maddening terror that had devoured him completely.

Dozens of dead, red eyes watched his bloody, gasping, pathetic excuse of an escape.

His ragged breathing grew even more laboured when the same impossibly powerful hand lifted him by his neck.

He had never been more afraid in his entire life.

His entire body was failing.

He was dying.

And the worst was yet to come.

His failing eyes beheld the blood-spattered skull-face of his enemy.

His last sight, a blade of blue fire in the grasp of the monster's free hand.

A blade that was once his own.


End file.
